Novelists Who Treat Violence And Cruelty As

Any Marriage Worth The Name Is No Better Than A Series Of Beginnings - Many Of Them Abortive.

Each Time That I Have Run Away - And From A Habit It Quickly Became An Illness - I Have Betrayed Someone. Myself, But Not Always Only Myself.

Perhaps This Is In The End What Most Marriages Are - Gentleness, Memory, And Habit.

Failures To Love Are Irremediable And Irredeemable.

The Older I Grow The More Sharply I Mistrust Words. So Few Of Them Have Any Meaning Left. It Is Impossible To Write One Sentence In Which Every Word Has The Bareness And Hardness Of Bones, The Reality Of The Skeleton.